Punished
by HeathenVampires
Summary: Heather wondered if it still counted as a punishment when she encouraged it and enjoyed it quite so much. Dagur/Heather Dagther one shot. Contains incest. Kinktober 2018


**Thirteen! Lucky for some.**

 **Today's ship iiiiiis? Dagur/Heather!**

 **I know I only did something that included Heather and Dagur a couple of days ago, but I got a** ** _lot_** **of Heather prompts and it was very hard to space them out. I got a surprising amount of prompts including the Berserker siblings, I didn't think the Dagther ship was especially large.**

 **Anywho. Kinks! Incest, obviously. Plus Dom/sub (told you I needed the practice),** **spanking and bondage.**

-HTTYD-

His footsteps were heavy on the stone floor, her ears straining to try and work out where he was, how close he was. Dagur had blindfolded her after her hands were tied behind her back, which had come after he'd told her to undress, watching in silence as Heather peeled off her tunic, pushed down her leggings. His eyes on her skin left her feeling flushed as Heather undid her breast bindings; not really needed, but they helped keep her warm sometimes. Especially if she'd done some hard flying.

Heather didn't remember what it was that sparked it. Only remembered the heavy weight of Dagur against her as they grappled with clothes and armour, tumbled into a creaking bed with his teeth in her throat and his cock burning inside her, Heather's arms and legs tight around him as he fucked her. It was hot and harsh and _hurt,_ and Heather felt sure she was hooked from the first thrust. The sharpness of his motions left her gasping, both of them completely unwound when it was over, silent save for panting. That time on the Hunter ships felt so long ago.

"Are you sorry?"

Biting her lip, Heather shook her head. Dagur growled, the sound running down her spine in the form of warm, shivery tingles. If she wasn't already blindfolded, Heather might have closed her eyes in anticipation.

 _Please..._

Dagur pressed a hand between her shoulder blades, made Heather lean over until she was in the right position for his want. It was slightly precarious, especially with her arms tied behind her. He kept one hand on her chest, idly toying with a breast while the other ran down her back. Heather quivered, waiting, hoping.

The sound of impact seemed to reach Heather a second before the pain did, spreading out from where Dagur's hand slapped against her backside. Heather let out a sort of strangled cry, caught in her throat somewhere between a sob and a moan as she felt her skin start to heat up. Her brothers fingers ran over the reddened skin.

"Are you sorry yet?"

Heather shook her head, wondering if Dagur could see the smirk she felt trying to make its way over her face. The next swat was harder, landing on the other cheek to ensure Heather would not be sitting comfortably any time soon. Especially when he repeated the motion, skin rippling with the force of his hand landing over and over. The sting was incredible, each slap hurting a little more than the last as her skin became more tender, burning in the most exquisite way.

Dagur had to know that she was turned on. Heather could feel her arousal was sticky on her thighs and Hel, Dagur could usually _smell_ her on the air when Heather was naked, wet, wanting. He was uniquely attuned to his sisters wants, even often knowing if Heather wanted something light and playful in bed or if she wanted his domination. He'd play along when Heather was bratty, knew where her limits were, knew when to push them a little, when to back off and let Heather settle in what she knew was comfortable for her. Mentally, at least.

The restraints chafed against her wrist when Heather pulled at them, itching to have her fingers free to touch herself.

Though _that_ was what had gotten her in 'trouble' - she didn't _really_ see Dagur's doings as a punishment when she loved the way her brother left her stinging, sore, desperate. Dagur had left Heather all hot and bothered, too flustered to think of much but the throbbing need he had not satisfied. And when Dagur caught her relieving said tension? Heather knew she was in for so much more.

"Are you sorry now?"

"Nuh-uh. You shouldn't have left me."

There he went, grunting and growling again. Gods, Heather wished she could see him. Watch the corded strength of his arms. See the flames of heat in her brothers face. She loved to see the same disregard for what was _right, normal, appropriate._ Dagur gave her somewhere to let go, to submit and to not have to _think_ so much. It just also happened to be incredibly sexy fun too, and Heather was not sorry for that.

"I told you to wait."

"Didn't wanna."

"I could see that. Gods Heather, anybody could have seen you with your skirt lifted, moaning like a filthy wench."

At that precise moment, Heather hadn't really cared. She still didn't, really. From the angle of the door, they wouldn't have seen much before she realised she had company. Dagur took a step back, and Heather heard a sound that made her clench needily, made her heart quicken. Dagur unfastened his belt, the heavy leather making a hearty snapping sound between his hands after he removed the Skrill buckle.

"Last chance. Say you're sorry for disobeying me."

"You want me to lie?"

Gods, the belt was vicious. When Dagur snapped it across the back of her thighs, Heather almost fell as her knees went weak in an already precarious position, Dagur's steadying hand no longer there to hold her up. He stopped, led her shaking form over a few steps and pushed until Heather was bent over their bed. Scratchy covers felt oddly nice against her cheek, and with her ass pointed right up in the air, Heather was little more than a target for her brother.

The next lash had Heather contemplating asking him to stop, though only for a second before she craved another, not yet at her fill of Dagur's innate knack for wielding pain. They really _were_ a match made in Valhalla; he was a sadist in his core, though Dagur no longer hurt people for the sake of it. He'd changed a great deal, but something in him liked to deliver pain. And something in Heather was a wanton mess for receiving it. The thick muscles of his arms carried power in them, and that power carried through the belt as it bit into her skin. A few whips of it had criss-crossed over others, those points of crossover burning twice as hot.

She didn't notice until he stopped, belt hitting the floor as Dagur lifted her up, brushing what she realised were tears that had escaped the blindfold from her face. He pulled the fabric off, frowning.

"Are you alright? Why didn't you stop me?"

Shaking with the rush pumping in her blood, Heather took a minute to find her voice, eyes adjusting to him there in front of her.

"F-fine. Didn't even realise I was tearing up."

"Lay down for me?"

Heather had little choice as Dagur put her down on her front, pouring a balm into his hands and working it over Heather's abused skin. He didn't like to go too far, but if Heather didn't let him know then Dagur couldn't know what too far was. And he hadn't, really. Sure, she would probably be bruised and sore tomorrow, but Heather liked that reminder the next day. And his hot hands on her skin felt really quite nice, soothing. Just oversensitive enough to touch to remind Heather that, yet again, Dagur had left her unsatisfied.

She squirmed, unable to think of anything _else_ now besides the aching, burning need, pulsing, hungry.

"Dagur... please..."

He hesitated for a second, but gripped Heather by the hips and flipped her on her back. Oh, that hurt. And it was awkward, hands still tied. But she could see him, and Dagur was already lowering his bottoms, thick cock standing straight up in readiness and Heather pushed the pain to some deep recess of her mind, spreading her legs as best she could.

"Are you sure you're up to this?"

"Don't leave me hanging again brother."

Heather saw his cock twitch, knew her words had hit their mark and was enthralled to see him come closer, kneeling between her trembling thighs, hissing when his fingers found her soaked, more than ready to take him in. A shift, a hand between them to aim himself and...

 _Finally._

Dagur was no less frantically aroused than her, Heather realised, as he set a quick, punishing pace with his tapered hips as they pushed forward, drew back only to slam deep inside again. The breadth of him lessened from his shoulders down, but there was ample power in his pelvis and Heather took every bit of it happily, twisting in pleasure with every slide of his cock, nudging up at sensitive spots on the in-stroke and making her whole body spasm in response. His hands would normally clutch her thigh in a bruising grip, but Dagur was clearly wary of how he had already inflicted pain there.

"Gods Dagur, more!"

He made a sound Heather reckoned might have developed into a sarcastic 'really?', but it soon faded into his guttural grunts as Dagur adjusted himself and sped up, slamming into her with a brutal need himself now. They were both overstimulated, sweat dripping from Dagur's bare chest to hers. It seemed to draw his attention, hand coming up to squeeze almost cruelly at Heather's breast, the pain in his grip only adding to Heather's swelling ecstasy.

"Uhhhh!"

Words had failed her by the time Heather came, whole body wracked with violent shudders as everything coalesced into a pulsing, rapturous ball of fire that consumed her, overwhelmed her, left Heather feeling like she was floating through some kind of calm ocean, riding the high for what felt like a very long time. As she slowly came back to earth, Heather became aware of the stiffness in her shoulders, the sting in her ass and the hot puddle Dagur left on her belly, naked brother slumped back and sucking in heavy breaths as he waited for Heather to become... human, again, she thought.

"Untie me? It's starting to really hurt."

Dagur untied her hands immediately, rubbing her fingers and wrists to encourage the blood flow, soothing across the grainy pattern of rope cutting into skin. It would heal, and Heather wore full sleeves anyway. Rolling onto her side, Dagur perched near her head, running fingers through her hair as Heather hummed, resting in the last vestiges of that lovely calm.

"Still not sorry are you?"

"Not even a little bit."

-HTTYD-

 **Yeah, it's shorter than the last two or three days were, but that was intentional. If you check the list you will see our Berserker sibs will be back again! Until next time.**


End file.
